The Outcast Dead (33 page)

‘It’s
all
I want. I want us to live together as a family. Me, Judy and Michael.’

‘And Thing.’

‘And Thing, of course.’ They have left Thing behind in the cottage as people on the beach tend to get twitchy about dogs, particularly bull terriers.

Cathbad flops back down on the blanket. ‘Talk to me Ruth. Take my mind off it. Tell me a story.’

So Ruth tells him about Mother Hook, about how she was convicted of killing the children in her care. She tells him that Frank thinks she was innocent and the tension on set between Corinna’s ‘black and midnight hag’ and Dani’s wronged childminder. Cathbad listens intently, propped up on one elbow, his eyes on her face. Kate,
recognising Ruth’s story-telling voice, stops building and comes to sit on her lap.

Ruth tells Cathbad about the medallion, at present residing on her bedside table. She tells him about the diaries and The Book of Dead Babies. When she gets to the bit about ‘Rowan will stand guard’, he says, ‘The rowan. The witchbane. The whispering tree. It’s said to guard against vampires.’

‘That’s all very well,’ says Ruth, ‘But which rowan? There must be rowan trees everywhere.’

‘There’s a Saint Rowan too,’ says Cathbad, who is always well informed about the saints. ‘It’s an anglicised version of the Gaelic name Ruadhan. It means ‘little red haired one’. I wonder if Joshua was red haired.’

‘I don’t know,’ says Ruth. ‘Jemima doesn’t say. Actually she may have meant the saint because she mentions Saint Michael too.’

‘A fellow close to my own heart,’ says Cathbad. ‘Is there a place where the saints could be watching over Joshua?’

And Ruth thinks of the church at Saxlingham Thorpe and the stone saints, their faces worn away by the years.

*

When Forensics release Liz’s letter, Nelson takes it to his office to read. It’s a quiet day at the station. Judy is still on compassionate leave and Nelson has given Clough the day off. There’s only Tanya, sulkily writing up case notes, and Whitcliffe, wafting around on a high from so many press conferences. Tim, slightly put out at missing last night’s action, has been on TV and radio all morning.

Nelson sits down at his desk and unfolds the single sheet of paper.

Liz Donaldson (Mrs)

Liz Donaldson (Mrs). When it came down to it, that was all Liz had wanted to be: Mrs Liz Donaldson. It was all about the husband after all. Like Tim before him, Nelson can’t see what there is in the colourless computer programmer to incite so many women to passion, even, it seems, to murder. But there must be something, because Liz Donaldson killed her child in a desperate attempt to regain her husband’s love. Justine was prepared to denounce her former lover, maybe motivated by thwarted
passion, and even Maddie, a young and beautiful school-girl, had succumbed to the unlikely lure of Bob Donaldson. He wonders what Liz meant by ‘her’ name: Aliona or Justine or Maddie? And there was something odd about Liz’s choice of Maddie as the person to discover her body, because that was surely what the early morning tryst was all about. Was this a way of punishing Maddie for her affair with Bob or simply because Liz had fond memories of the family for whom she used to babysit? Well, they’ll never know now. Nelson sighs. They’ll have to drop charges against Bob and Nirupa Khan will probably threaten to sue. They’d better release a statement today while everyone is still euphoric over Michael.

Nelson looks back at the letter. He was right about Liz Donaldson. There was a side to her that enjoyed her role as victim, as the blameless recipient of sympathy. He was also right about religion. It’s there in every line of the letter, in the references to heaven and hell and forgiveness. He thinks of David, the little boy who was just learning to crawl. Never has being right given him less satisfaction.

*

Judy and Darren are on Southwold pier. Michael is at home with his doting grandparents. All around them, families are enjoying the old-fashioned delights of the penny arcade and the water clock. It’s like a day trip to the Fifties, a homage to family fun. But Judy has brought Darren here to break up their family. He seems to know that something is wrong because he doesn’t suggest a
cream tea or a go on the coconut shy, he just shuffles along with his head down.

‘Darren,’ Judy grabs his arm. ‘I’ve got to talk to you.’

‘Fancy some candyfloss?’ he says desperately.

‘Darren. I’m sorry. I’m in love with someone else.’

They have reached the end of the pier and they stand in silence, watching fathers and sons fishing for crabs.

‘Who is it?’ Darren asks at last.

‘Cathbad.’

‘
Cathbad
,’ Darren repeats incredulously. ‘Are you sure?’

Judy almost laughs. ‘Of course I’m sure.’

‘Cathbad. I knew it was someone but I never thought …’

Judy stares at her husband. ‘What do you mean, you knew it was someone?’

‘I knew there was someone else,’ says Darren. ‘Even before we got married, I sensed it. I knew you didn’t feel the same about me anymore. I just hoped that it would fizzle out. And then, when you got pregnant, I thought it was a second chance for us. Then, when I saw little Michael …’

‘You knew he wasn’t yours?’

Darren winces. ‘I wasn’t sure. But he doesn’t look like me, does he?’ He makes a gallant attempt at a joke. ‘He’s much better looking than me. And he’s not ginger.’

‘I don’t know about Michael,’ says Judy. ‘I can’t be sure …’

‘I’ll always love him,’ says Darren. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘I know.’

They are silent for a few more minutes. The sea is as calm and still as glass.

‘If you didn’t think it was Cathbad,’ says Judy, ‘who did you think it was?’

Darren looks away, his voice muffled. ‘I thought it was Dave Clough.’

‘
Clough
?’ Now it’s Judy’s turn to sound astonished. ‘You thought I was in love with Clough?’

‘Well, you seemed so close. You were always working late with him. And he’s always been really interested in Michael. And Michael’s dark, like him.’

‘Clough’s a friend,’ says Judy, ‘no more.’ She reflects that even a few days ago she would have hesitated before calling Clough a friend.

‘So,’ says Darren, turning to look at her. She knows that his face at this moment will haunt her for the rest of her days. ‘Do you want to live with Cathbad?’

‘I’m sorry,’ says Judy. ‘If I could forget Cathbad, I would. God knows, I’ve tried. I’ll always love you, Darren. You’re my best friend. But I can’t live without Cathbad. I’ve tried and it’s killing me.’

‘Does he love you?’ asks Darren.

‘Yes,’ says Judy. ‘Yes he does.’

‘What about Michael?’

‘You’ll always be his father,’ says Judy. ‘Cathbad understands that. He’ll have two fathers.’

‘Oh my God,’ Darren turns away, half-laughing, half-crying. ‘What are my parents going to say?’

What’s everyone going to say, thinks Judy. Not only the two sets of grandparents but her colleagues, Nelson, Ruth. They’ll all think she’s gone mad. But she fixes her eyes on a future with Cathbad and Michael. It is all that has kept her sane over the last few days.

‘It’ll be horrible,’ she says now. ‘But they’ll accept it in the end.’

‘I don’t want to worry about what people will think,’ says Darren quite aggressively, ‘I’m not that sort of person.’

‘No,’ says Judy. ‘You’re not.’

‘It’s just …’ He looks at her, his eyes transparent with tears. ‘I’ll miss you both so much.’

And now Judy cries too. They stand on the pier, holding each other and crying, as the happy families trail past them.

‘Thanks for having us,’ Simon says. ‘It’s been great.’

‘We’ve enjoyed it,’ says Ruth. And this is no more than the truth. The last week of Simon’s visit, with the knowledge that Michael is safe, has been really enjoyable. Fun, for want of a better word. They have visited Norwich castle and paid their respects to Boadicea. They have been on a wherry and have caught a train over the beach at Wells. The boys have been body-boarding and horse riding. Kate now knows all the words to ‘Glory Glory Man United’ (for some reason both Simon and his sons, neither of whom have ever been north of Birmingham, support this team). Simon and Ruth have shared several more bottles of wine. Ruth has told Simon about the Bronze Age and he has tried to teach her about computers.

‘I wish we could stay longer but I promised Cathy that we’d be back today.’

It was only yesterday that Simon told Ruth, rather shamefacedly, that he was going back to his wife. ‘I’m glad,’ she had said. ‘I’m really glad.’ ‘You must think
I’m an idiot,’ said Simon, looking so like his ten-year-old self that Ruth had almost laughed. ‘We’re all idiots,’ she said, ‘isn’t that what it’s all about?’

The holiday in Norfolk has apparently shown Simon that he needs to change himself before he changes his life. He’s going to get another job, learn Spanish, go on a creative-writing course. Ruth wonders what Cathy will make of it all. ‘She’s all for it,’ Simon said. ‘She’s going to do an Open University degree.’ Ruth wishes them all the luck in the world but she can’t help hoping that her sister-in-law doesn’t turn up at one of her summer schools.

‘Bye Kate,’ says Simon, kissing her. ‘See you soon.’

‘Clara’s coming,’ Kate informs him. The boys are pulling monkey faces from inside the car.

‘Who’s Clara?’

‘My babysitter. She’s coming tonight.’

‘Going out on the razz as soon as we leave, eh?’ Simon might be a much improved version but he still sometimes says things like ‘out on the razz’.

‘I’m going to a ruined church to exhume a body,’ says Ruth.

*

Judy and Cathbad are also on their way to the church. Michael is with Darren – one of his two fathers. The last week has been hellish. Darren moved in with his parents, who were at first fairly understanding, attributing Judy’s behaviour to delayed shock about Michael’s abduction. Now, as their daughter-in-law’s resolve to end the marriage shows no sign of weakening, Judy is sure that their
tolerance is wearing thin and she doesn’t blame them. God knows what they’ll say when she moves in with Cathbad. Judy and Darren are agreed that they want to sell the house in Castle Rising. For her part Judy never wants to set foot in the place again. It will always be associated with those nightmare days of Michael’s absence, watching endless television and waiting for the Grim Reaper to knock on the door.

Cathbad says that he’ll sell the caravan and buy a house. He’s got some money saved, he says. Judy can’t really imagine Cathbad owning a house but she goes along with the suggestion is the same dream-like way that she has been acquiescing with everything recently. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ said Nelson, when she explained the situation to him. ‘You seem in a bit of a trance. Not that I blame you, mind.’ Nelson had been kind. He had even (looking acutely uncomfortable) suggested counselling. ‘You’ve been through a lot. It might help.’ ‘You think counselling would stop me being in love with Cathbad?’ asked Judy. Nelson had smiled, though Judy thought he had looked rather sad. ‘There’s a limit to what counselling can manage,’ he’d said.

In fact Cathbad and Judy have seen very little of each other since Michael’s return. This gives the evening’s expedition a rather holiday-like air. ‘Our first date,’ said Cathbad, ‘and it’s to an exhumation. Something to tell the grandkids.’ Judy ponders these words as she takes the road for Saxlingham Thorpe (she might love Cathbad but she doesn’t trust his driving). It’s funny to think of
them being on a date. She and Cathbad seem to have been through heaven and hell without ever having done any of the bits in-between. They have never had a meal in a restaurant, been to the cinema or shared a holiday. They have a child, though, and as Judy parks by the Mill Inn she thinks about the other implications of Cathbad’s remark. Grandchildren? Does he mean Michael’s children or the descendants of the hypothetical children still to come? The thought that they might have more children together makes her suddenly feel dizzy with emotion. As they get out of the car and walk towards the wood, she reaches out and holds Cathbad’s hand.

*

Exhumations are usually done at night says Kevin Davies, a local undertaker (and acquaintance of Nelson’s). ‘It’s to show respect, you see.’ Nelson says it’s more about avoiding unnecessary publicity. But when Ruth mentioned this tradition to Martin, the new director, he had been wild with enthusiasm. The moonlight, the abandoned church, ruined walls rising out of the shadows, it would all make perfect television.

The
Women Who Kill
episode has survived the arrest of its director, but only just. Corinna walked out as soon as the facts were known. ‘I can’t stand cruelty to children. I’m funny that way.’ Martin, as assistant director, had a series of crisis meetings with the producers and the television company but, in the end, it was decided to continue with the programme. Now Martin is in the process of re-shooting all the early scenes with Frank as the main
presenter. Much to her embarrassment, Ruth has also been given a much enlarged role. She thinks cynically that the extra publicity won’t hurt the ratings.

Now Martin is getting ready to shoot the midnight dig. There was a lot of discussion about whether to allow the TV crew to film the exhumation. Eventually Nelson gave the go-ahead, subject to a few conditions: Martin mustn’t film the bones themselves and the footage must be given to the police for approval. As Ruth approaches she sees that the cameras have already been set up. The space between the crumbling arches already seems full of people. As well as the film crew there is Irish Ted, who’s going to do the actual digging, several other members of the field team and, standing hand in hand, Cathbad and Judy. Next to them is an elderly man wearing a clerical collar. And with a lurch of the heart, Ruth sees Frank talking to Dex the cameraman.